The Last Enemy
by Ruby Feathers
Summary: Six times Sirius remembered Lily in Azkaban.


**Note: These started off as separate short one-shot type things (for a random competition that I never actually submitted to), so they might be slightly choppy, but here they are! **

* * *

_The Last Enemy That Shall be Destroyed is Death_  
Six times Sirius remembered Lily in Azkaban

**1977**  
_Prompt: eight_

They were playing a game, the Marauders and Lily and McKinnon (he had forgotten what game it was, now; he hadn't thought to treasure these moments at the time) and Lily was sitting cross-legged on the common room floor across from him, hair blazing and a teasing smile on her lips.

"So, Sirius," she said, green eyes alive and dancing, "here's my question: what was your first impression of me?"

He had grinned. "James had just told me he was in love with you," he started, flicking overgrown hair out of his eyes as James groaned.

Lily leaned forward in anticipation as the firelight flickered over her face. "I know that part."

"We were in the hallway," he continued, "and you walked past." He could still remember it – he and James were sitting near a window when Lily flounced by, eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly in disapproval as she saw the two boys.

"Yes?"

"So I turned to James and I said, 'eight out of ten.'"

Lily laughed then, real, loud, throwing-your-head-back laughter (the kind of laughter that made her a bit of a fifth Marauder), and said, "And James?"

"He threatened to hex me, of course."

**1980  
**_Prompt: butterfly_

"Is that…a _butterfly?"_

Sirius had walked into the nursery to see a very-pregnant Lily standing on a chair, dressed in stained and dirty work-robes, hair tied up in a messy ponytail. A paintbrush was in her hand and she was leaning forward, nose almost touching the wall. "Hello, Sirius," she said tersely as he entered, drawing the brush painstakingly over the strange-looking blob.

"Hello," he said, sitting on the chair in the corner and stretching out his legs in front of him, "But is that a yellow _butterfly?_ Aren't you having a boy?"

She frowned, crossing her arms (accidentally letting the paintbrush blot a bright splotch on her robe), and leaned back to regard what she had painted. "I suppose it is," she said slowly.

He laughed. "And _why_ are you painting a butterfly in mini-James' nursery?"

"Well, it was meant to be a duck…"

**1979  
**_Prompt: elbows_

He was eating Lily's food, he remembered that much. Maybe it was in Lily and James' first flat together, a tiny place overlooking a busy London street. Yes, that was it…he could imagine the red checkered wallpaper of the kitchen, and Lily, with a contagious smile, sitting beside him.

"Were you ever taught table manners, Sirius?" she had said jokingly; he remembered her voice sharp and clear, like she was sitting beside him now.

"Never – raised by wolves," he said, speaking around the mouthful of something delicious (oh, what _was _it?) in his mouth.

She had chuckled at that, even though she didn't want to (she never wanted to when she was trying to teach him _etiquette)_. "Well, you're supposed to keep your scrawny elbows to yourself," she retaliated, smiling triumphantly with her hair in a vaguely halo-like haze around her head.

It was true; in his half-slouching position, Sirius' elbow was almost touching her plate. "Sorry, Mrs. Potter," he said grudgingly, drawing it back toward him.

Lily had grinned at him then, looking bright and fresh in contrast to the dinginess of their flat. "No matter. Well, what's the verdict? How d'you like my cooking?"

**1980  
**_Prompt: murder_

"I can't believe this!"

They were in the Three Broomsticks, all of them – the younger generation of the Order of the Phoenix (the Marauders, Lily, McKinnon, Meadowes, Alice and Frank, the Prewetts, Vance, Fenwick, and Dearborn) for the second-to-last time, if he remembered correctly. It was bright and merry and _hopeful_, and Lily was thumping her butterbeer on the table, her eyes alive and face flushed.

"Mr. Not-Quite-Minister-of-Magic Crouch is basically allowing us to become Death Eaters! He's allowing us to _murder_ other people!" Her frenzied gesticulations almost knocked James' drink out of his hand.

"He's scared," Sirius had said, speaking in a very self-important tone as he took another sip of _something_, "and he wants to curry favor with other Ministry fat-cats."

"No excuse!" Her voice went high and shrill, cutting through the dank coldness of Azkaban, and he could _see_ her determined frown and eyes bright with passion. "He's asking us to throw away our values! To become murderers, lawful or not!"

"Evans, you _have_ to understand – we're killing other terrible people. We're doing the world a _favor!_" Frank Longbottom had cried, as Benjy Fenwick drunkenly agreed.

Maybe she had said "an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind" after that – maybe she hadn't. He had gotten too drunk, and everything was just blurry impressions of lights and colors – but he _wished_ he remembered every detail.

**1976  
**_Prompt: heap_

It must have been May because Lily and James were together by then (how could he forget? He must have walked in on them snogging a million times, and they held hands _everywhere.)_ They were in the boys' dorm, and sunlight was streaming in through the windows and glinting like sparks off of Lily's hair.

"Oh, _dear_," was the first thing she said, because Sirius had always sorted his things in heaps; a heap of books here, a heap of money there, a heap of pranking goods, a heap of miscellaneous items, and another heap of things he didn't care enough to really sort into their own heap.

"Hey – a deal's a deal," Sirius had responded, chucking a dirty shirt at her, "You have to help me clean. Fold it, will you?"

She carefully put the shirt down on the bed, looking around with wide, shocked emerald eyes and absent-mindedly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Start with the floor," she suggested, "That way your room won't be an obstacle course."

Sirius pouted, leaning back against the window. "I'm practically a house elf to you," he had joked (or something like that – he couldn't remember what _exactly_ he had said).

Lily turned, hands on hips, and gave a famous Evans glare. "Get to work," she said, her voice unusually sharp, "I'm not cleaning this dung heap all on my own."

**1980  
**_Prompt: beware_

It was their house in Godric's Hollow, he remembered that much – and he tried not to think of it burnt and falling apart. He saw it like the first time, newly painted with the sun glancing off large windows and a tame, rectangular lawn. However, a giant sign was draped over the white picket fence, blaring large capitalized letters to the neighborhood.

"Really? Was this Prongs' idea?" he called from the sidewalk to Lily, who was standing on the front porch to welcome him inside.

Lily grinned, walking over to him in her bare feet. "That was all me," she said, "I just _had _to see your reaction."

Sirius glared at the sign, and its bold brazen letters, and tried to ignore Lily giggling beside him. "It's not _funny_," he said obstinately, glancing at her, "And stop laughing!" Her eyes were glittering with barely suppressed mirth.

Lily shrugged, still laughing slightly. "Whatever you say. I think it's a nice touch." She reached down and rested her fingers lightly on the sun-warmed sign before turning. "You should see the living room, I worked quite hard!" she sang.

"'BEWARE OF DOG?'" Sirius grumbled sarcastically, thinking of the sign as he followed Lily into the house, "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please review! :)  
**


End file.
